Great Pretender
by Ivey Insane
Summary: Jon makes our main character mad. She's had enough of his nonsense and smacks him in the face with a shovel. She begins to do other things to him. What happens? Sorry about the category it's it...


**Hey! Here's a gruesome story for you guys. I wrote it because I was pissed at someone, 'Jon'. It's bloody and such so I hope you like it. I have a couple mentions of other things in here so I'm putting a disclaimer. **

_**Disclamer: I don't own Batman/Batman: The Dark Knight. I don't own the song "The Great Pretender."**_

* * *

He had angered me. I'm not easily angered but that smack to my face was the last straw. I took the shovel and smacked him in the face with the metal end. I used so much of my strength it broke his nose. His body made a disgusting thud onto the concrete. I laughed a frightening laugh. I watched the blood poor from his nose. The deep red color made me crave more. I touched the blood coming from his nose with my index finger. The deep feel of the dark liquid made my skin crawl. I stood from my spot on the garage floor. I looked around until my eyes fell on the ax. My uncontrollable shaky legs walked my body to the ax my eyes have been staring at. My hands gripped the handle tightly as I picked up the, now weapon, off the floor. I walked slowly towards the not quite so lifeless body. I slammed the sharp metal end down onto his left arm. As soon as the arm became disconnected with the rest of his body, the blood splattered everywhere. Some blood landed upon my face, some on my hands but so much on the walls and floor. I smiled sadistically as I watched the vast amount of blood run from the dislocated arm. I licked the deep red from the corner of my mouth. Nothing tasted sweeter. The blood stopped flowing from the dismembered arm.

I had stood there for hours watching him bleed. The blood in his nose had crusted up long ago. The irony metal smell of blood filled the garage. My mind ran with various thoughts. The feeling of killing was so intense. My mind thought up countless ways to chop him up, torture him, and bury him. I dropped the small ax onto the hard concrete floor of the garage. I held my head in my hands, trying to get over this feeling. The insanity of it all! I'm not this kind of person. I don't kill…I don't get angry. I stopped mentally yelling to myself. My cheeks flooded with tears. The salt filled water droplets burned my eyes. I now know how a snail feels when you pour salt on top of him. Jon started to twitch in his unconsciousness. I freaked out and started to wrap his, now nubed, arm in a blanket that he laid on top of. The tears stained my porcelain cheeks. The light mask of eyeliner spread down my face like melted crayons do to paper. What do I do if he wakes and runs? Maybe he's bled to death. I wasn't sure. I sat next to Jon's lifeless body as the blood soaked into my bright, sky blue shorts. My eyes quickly scan the garage. My dad still had the hog tying ropes up. We had used them to kill the pigs so we could sell the meat. I dragged Jon's dummy like body to the side where the ropes hung. I try to be at least somewhat gentle when tying the rope, pretty much a noose now, around his slightly thick neck. I tied it tightly against the nubed arm, trying to stop the low bleeding. As I went on tying his limbs together, I felt…angrier. I furrowed my brows as he twitched, still in his unconsciousness.

My emotions are running wild. They feel like wildebeests trying to find the best grass. Jon had been a pretty nice kid in the beginning. He soon started asking for things or more so begging. I got him a few things but they were simple and not hard to get. I soon stopped getting him things after he started to lie to me. His lies were easy to see through so I saw no reason to think that he, for once, was telling the truth. Soon after the lies came to be sob stories, which were lies as well. He found out that I never believed a single one of his stories so he started to hit me. I never understood why I put up with it. I finally had enough of his ignorance. Funny how so many things cause you to snap. My mind drifted to a soft song I heard coming from outside. I listened to it for a moment but I never cared to find out where it came from.

The only thing that was on my mind was the task at hand; to kill this bastard of a friend. I lightly ran my fingers across his lightly sun kissed skin. I stared at it hungrily. I snap my jaw down on his flesh and pull it from the bone. I never knew how great the taste of human flesh was. The rush of knowing I just ate another human's skin causes me to rip another piece from the bone. The warm liquid flows down my, almost too pale, skin. The sound of the flesh ripping resonates in my ears. It was like the shattering of glass. The shards fluttering to the ground sound so beautiful even in person. After my thoughts, I licked the cooling blood from my lips as I found some nails. I smiled as wickedly as the Devil herself. Jon's body still limply hung upon the garage wall like a trophy. I lightly ran my finger tips across his closed eye lids. I used my long, black painted finger nails to remove the creased line the lids made when connected. His dark brown eyes only showed the dark, pathetic human sack he really was. I let them close again.

I placed my hands on his small chest and gave a good, strong push. His body made a sickening thwack against the brick wall as some of the bones in his small spine cracked. The noise was just as beautiful as the sound of the acoustic guitar being played. I shudder at the feeling of getting this anger out. I understand why we have murderers. The feeling just felt way too good. My torture didn't end there. I was waiting until he woke up to do worse. I wanted to hear his screams emerge from his mouth as the pain hit him harshly. In an hour or so, I had screwed or nailed his last five fingers together...one by one. I nailed his ankles together with some industrial nails. He started to wake when I was conducting my 'acupuncture' with filthy, rusted nails and screws. The pain from everything I had done hit him in one huge wave. He moaned in discomfort and writhed around a little. I was excited and shocked. I had never expected him to move. I loved every single moment he moaned, groaned, and whimpered in pain. Jon deserves this. He deserves this oh so very much. He turned his gaze slightly down to look at me. He need not say anything since his eyes had already asked 'why?'

"Because, my dear, filthy, lying, beggars, like yourself, don't get to fulfill their dreams. You'll get nowhere in life and only die on the street anyway. Consider this my...last favor to you. Helping rid this already dirtied world of one more ignorant person will help the strong and smart survive."

The tears fell from his eyes like small streams. I only laughed. I **refused** to show any remorse for this child any longer. Childlike stupidity from a teenage boy would only kill innocent people in the end. Now the real thing had begun. I hammer a regular nail into his mid-chest, barely missing his heart. The scream emitted from deep within his throat was like sweet music to my ears. I nailed a few more there almost in the shape of a heart and listened to his echoing screams. I grabbed the hunting knife from the work table without a single glance at the object. I ducked the rope holding his arm to the ceiling and stepped over the one holding his legs to the floor. I lightly breathed on his neck. My left hand gently griped his neck. He took in a sharp breath. I quickly squeezed his neck in a Boa like hold. I nipped at his shoulder blades, trying to taste them. Jon looked like a fish out of water as he gasped for breath. I slowly released my hold on his throat as I placed the cool blade against his warm flesh of his neck. I pressed down harshly. I let it set for only a moment before I slashed the side of his neck. I missed any vital organs that resided there. I have a better way to kill this fool. He coughed a little causing some blood to squirt from the gash in his neck. I smiled whole heartedly. A thin piercing needle had grazed my finger tips as I slid my hand across the table. I picked it up in between the pads of my index finger and thumb. The cool, thin metal danced gracefully between my fingers as I picked up some thread. I pushed the thick, dark string through the head of the needle. I left the thread on its spool, never once giving it a cut. I held his chubby face in my hands. The tears kept falling from those ugly brown eyes. I scoffed and started to push the needle through the far right side of his mouth. I allowed the thread to come through the small hole, slowly. I smile and push the needle roughly through his upper lip to hear him moan in pain.

The stitches came together nicely at the ends of his mouth. I had been cutting thick scars into his body slowly. His muffled screams sounded interesting. I flick a lighter on after I threw the knife to the floor. I placed the plastic holding the flame under his chin. The tip of the flame kissed the place it was held at. I moved the flame to let it kiss at his arms. The hairs began to burn. The smell was disgusting but inviting. The flames danced on his arms like they're performing a ritual. I gently pat them out after a few minutes of watching his flesh melt. He whimpered behind the black stitches. Jon's eyes had dimmed to an even darker brown. How ugly and revolting. I started pushing him back and forth like he was on a swing.

"Want to know why I decided to kill you? Oh my, how terrible of a friend you are. You're always wanting. You use an illness to get sympathy. I'm not killing you just because I can but because I want to prove that no one will miss a worm like you."

I stopped swinging him. I reached to his small hands. I started to grab at the rusty items that are between his fingers. I slowly pull the metals from his fingers. I got bored of pulling them out slowly. I started to roughly pull them from his fingers. The holes from the stitches had become stretched but it wasn't enough. I roughly pulled the nail out of his ankles. He screamed with such a force that the stitches ripped. His blood dripped down on top of me. I laughed as a madman would. His body shook in pain. The satisfaction of knowing that I could inflict some sort of pain upon the boy was mind numbing. I looked up after I stared at my feet for a few seconds. His still disgusting brown eyes stared into my crystal blue ones. I decided to rid him of those lifeless eyes. I pierced his eye lids open with safety pins I found laying around. I gave him a small kiss like Poison Ivy would do with some of her victims. I smiled devilishly before I pushed the nail into his left eye. Jon's girlish scream deafened me. The ringing left in my ears help to keep me deaf as I pushed the other needle into his right eye. His chest heaves up and down faster than a cheetah running. I untied him from his bounds and let him fall to the floor. I picked his chin up between my index and middle finger. How nice it was to see nails instead of nasty brown eyes. I dropped his chin to fix up my last…killer idea. I saw this, my idea, in Batman quite a few times.

I sharpened one of my father's work pencils and placed it in a hole drilled into the small work table. I lightly stepped toward the shivering body in a heap on the floor. I picked up one of his still bleeding hands.

"Stand up, Jon"

I spoke softly to him. I'm shocked he still does as I say. I walk, or more so drag, him to the small work table. He must trust me in a way. You always see people's true nature just before they die. It's always a bit late when it does show though.

"I'll make all of the pain go away. The nails won't be there and you'll see again. This entire thing will have only been a nightmare."

Jon took a deep breath just before I roughly slammed his head into the sharpened end of the pencil. I let his body flop onto the hard, concrete ground; motionless. I stood still in fascination. A smile grazed my face that's as big as the Joker's. I turned my eyes to look at the, hopefully dead, body. His limbs slightly twitched as blood slowly poured from the hole in his head. I fell to my knees in search of an answer to what I had just done. I had become what I always hated. I snapped myself out of my stupid trance. I rose to my feet and picked up the first weapon I ever used against Jon; the shovel. Screw this world. I may look like a villain in their eyes but I'm a hero. I gripped Jon's ghastly brown hair that tops his head. I used the wooden end of the shovel to press the garage door button for it to open.

The cool, gentle breeze of the summer night felt nice on my warm, bloodied legs. The soft wind caressed my hair and carried it to and fro. The wind pulled me out of the garage as I dragged Jon's meat sack of a body far across the yard. I looked at the ground, daring it to defy me. I smiled and began to dig. My small garden used to be planted here but nothing ever grew. My once, could have been gorgeous, garden is now a shallow grave for something revolting. I began to hum a song to distract myself from the destruction of my garden.

"Should be deep enough."

I say to no one. I used the root of a tree to pull myself from the grave I just dug. I take a few short steps towards Jon's body.

"Disgusting. You wasted my time and I won't allow you to waste anyone else's. Farewell and say hello to the devil for me."

I whispered just before dragging his body to the grave. I dropped the body down the hole and watched it contort in various ways. I giggled to myself. I pick up the shovel again with my battered and beaten hands. The dirt began to fly once again. It dropped onto his body like dirtied crystals. I hum the song once again as I patted the hole full. A smile laid itself upon my mouth once again as I turned back towards the house. I sung as I prepared myself, mentally, for the days to come.

"I am the great pretender, oh yeah, willing to dream forever."


End file.
